


Reunion

by ilsafausts (phoenix_cry)



Category: Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Ethan is totally smitten, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Ilsa on a bike, Interlude, No Plot/Plotless, Random & Short, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24337006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_cry/pseuds/ilsafausts
Summary: Even IMF agents deserve a coffee break now and then.
Relationships: Ilsa Faust/Ethan Hunt
Comments: 13
Kudos: 67





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends, it's been a while. Hope you're all hanging in there during these...special...times. 
> 
> Finally getting the confirmation that Rebecca is gonna be back for MI7&8 made me want to jump back into the writing pool even more than usual. So this happened. It's a super random and short fic, but better than nothing, I guess?
> 
> Enjoy! And as usual, I'd love to hear what you think. :)

“Hey Ethan,” Benji greeted, as he appeared in Ethan’s office doorway with a half-hearted knock on the doorframe. 

Ethan looked up from the report he was writing on, a part of his job description he hardly ever got to spend much time on. “Hey, Benji, what’s up?”

“A few of us are heading to the café across the street, you wanna come?”

Ethan looked back at all the unfinished documents cluttering his desk, the half-finished report on his laptop, sighed and closed the device. “Why not. I could use some fresh air.”

He got up from his chair, joints stiffer than just a couple years before, and joined his friend in the corridor. Benji gave him a happy little grin, glad to get his friend to take a break. The two of them headed down the corridor towards the entrance, where they were met by Luther, Brandt, Jane, and, to Ethan’s surprise, Director Hunley. 

“Don’t look so surprised, Hunt,” Hunley greeted him, “I drink coffee, too. More than my doctor says I should, as a matter of fact, so I’d appreciate it if no one told him about this little excursion.”

His request was met by a chorus of chuckles and  _ yes, sir's _ . 

As one, the small group filtered through the security checkpoint and headed outside and across the street towards the little café that was frequented by most IMF agents, when they were at headquarters. As a result, they were greeted by several familiar faces as they settled at an unoccupied table outside, beneath the shade of a tree. 

Ethan was glad for the shade - although the early summer sun wasn’t unbearably hot yet, it already got uncomfortably warm in direct sunlight, even in the simple grey t-shirt he was wearing.

The waitress soon came by and took their orders - americano for some, cappuccino for others - and conversation flowed easily amongst the group. They talked about anything but work, not just for security reasons, but they were also glad to not think about work for once, even if only for half an hour. 

A few minutes later they were all sipping on their coffee drink of choice, when the revving of a motorcycle engine could be heard in the distance. 

Involuntarily, Ethan’s heart skipped a beat and his concentration on the conversation around him fell by the wayside as his ears perked and his eyes focused on the end of the street, instead.

“Ethan? What is it?” Brandt asked, noticing his friend’s sudden distraction.

Ethan remained silent a moment longer in concentration, before he shook his head and returned his attention to his friends and colleagues. “It’s nothing. I just thought I heard something. Don’t worry about it.” He had hardly finished speaking before the motorcycle could be heard again, this time even closer, and Ethan had to fight every muscle in his body not to lean forward in suspense but to remain relaxed instead. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Benji and Luther sharing a knowing look, while the rest of the group remained confused at his behavior. Ethan cursed inwardly, telling himself that he was delusional and that it was just another bike, one of thousands.

A bike that sounded exactly like her preferred make and model. 

What were the chances of her showing up here, today, anyway? 

He reached for his coffee and took another sip, barely tasting anything. His heart was still pounding, beating against his ribs. 

“If I didn’t know any better,” Jane said, “I’d say something’s got you nervous. But that can’t be, because you’re Ethan Hunt and I’ve never seen you nervous before.” She turned to Luther, his longest friend, a questioning eyebrow raised. “Have you ever seen him nervous? Can he  _ do _ nervous?”

Luther gave her a mysterious little smile before turning his attention back on his friend, knowing full well what he was thinking, hoping for. “He can.”

Right, that moment, the bike turned onto their street and Ethan stopped breathing, knuckles whitening on the armrest of his chair. 

A few short moments later, a black motorcycle, steered by a slim figure clad from head to toe in black leather gear, came to a halt right across the street. The figure dismounted the bike and reached up to remove their helmet. 

Even before the helmet was off, Ethan was out of his chair and headed across the road almost blindly. Luckily, there wasn’t much traffic. 

The others watched, stunned, as the figure - now they could tell it was a woman - dropped her helmet on the seat of her bike and half a second later was swept into a crushing embrace by Ethan. 

“What the-” Jane started, but the surprise had robbed her of any further words. 

“How the hell did he know it was her?!” Brandt wanted to know, staring at his friend, who had buried his face in the woman’s neck and didn’t seem to want to let go ever again.

“Well, then,” Hunley said, amusement coloring his voice, “I assume that’s Ilsa Faust, then?”

Benji and Luther each gave a nod, but remained silent, watching the spectacle a few meters away.

“I guess now I know why he’s always so very keen to defend her,” Hunley added.

“To be fair, sir,” Benji said, not taking his eyes off his friends, still entwined in a tight embrace, “it’s not like he was ever wrong about her. We were just too quick to deal out judgment.”

Brandt grunted, a little unhappy by that fact.

A sharp nudge against his shin was his reward. “Ouch!” 

Jane just gave him a look that said  _ ‘If you’re mean to her without reason I will end you because I already like her’.  _

Brandt grumbled but said nothing. 

Meanwhile, Ethan and Ilsa had separated slightly but were still connected, their hands entwined between them. They could make out Ethan’s thumb drawing gentle circles on the back of her hand. 

They were talking quietly, intently, and the group tried hard to resist reading their lips. 

A minute later, the couple turned towards them and headed back across the street. They all hurried to appear busy, grabbing their coffees and falling back into small talk. Mainly about the weather. Talk about master spies. 

“Ilsa!” Benji exclaimed, the first to drop any pretense and hurried to get up to greet his friend. “It’s so good to see you, how have you been?”

“Hey, Benji,” Ilsa laughed and hugged the other Brit. “I’ve been well. You?”

Benji nodded. “Yeah, yeah, me too.”

“Make some room, make some room!” Luther exclaimed and half-shoved Benji aside, in order to wrap Ilsa into a warm hug. “Hey, kiddo. Good to see you!”

Ilsa mumbled a greeting into Luther’s shoulder, slightly overwhelmed by the warm welcome. 

“I’d also like you to meet our boss, Director Hunley,” Ethan took over the introductions, as Luther released her from the welcome hug.

Hunley stepped forward to shake her hand. “It’s about time we met, especially after that one time I tracked you and Hunt halfway across the globe.”

Ilsa bit her lip, slightly chagrined. “If I remember correctly, Ethan was tracking me and you were tracking him, sir.”

“Potato, potahto,” Hunley joked, good-natured. 

“You remember William Brandt?” Ethan quickly interjected, chuckling.

Ilsa turned to face Brandt, who gave her a nod and a slightly stiff smile in greeting. 

Before Ilsa could say anything, Jane jumped in, her elbow finding Brandt’s ribs as she nudged him aside in order to step in front of Ilsa. 

“Hi Ilsa, I’m Jane! I’ve heard quite a few rumors about you, and I have to admit I can’t wait to get to know you, in order to find out which of the rumors are true,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. 

Ilsa grinned. “I’m sure none of them are, but why don’t we get a drink sometime and find out?”

“Deal!”

Benji rubbed his hands in excitement. “Sounds like fun! Can we come, too?”

“No.”

“Nope.” 

“Aw, man.” 

The others laughed. 

“Well, Agent Faust,” Hunley started, after the laughter had died down again, “I’d love to take this chance and make a sale’s pitch for you to start working for me, but I fear that if I keep you any longer than necessary, Hunt will never forgive me.”

Ethan was about to protest, but Hunley waved him off. “Don’t worry, Ethan, I won’t keep you any longer than necessary, either.” Hunley drained the last of his coffee, got up, and dumped some bills on the table, before turning back to the group. “Why don’t you all take the rest of the day off, and hurry about it, before I change my mind.”

The agents shared confused, but equally excited glances, while Hunley turned back to address Ilsa. “Why don’t you come by my office when you’ve got the time. I was serious about that sale’s pitch.”

Ilsa chuckled, and nodded, reaching over to shake Hunley’s hand. “Will do, sir.”

“Great! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do need to get back to work. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir!” They called after their boss, still unsure of what had happened. 

“Well, how about that drink, then?” Jane said, took a look at the guys, and added, “And yes, I guess you can come with after all.”

“Wouldn’t be fair to have all the fun without them,” Ilsa agreed.

“You’re too kind,” Luther said, drily, while Ethan only laughed. 

“The Irish pub two blocks down? Say, in two hours?” He said, checking his watch and deciding that three-thirty in the afternoon was a little bit too early to go out drinking. Not to mention the fact that he wanted to spend some time with Ilsa, away from curious eyes. 

Jane gave him a knowing look but nodded. “Sounds like a plan. See you guys then.”

They paid their coffees and got up to leave, saying their goodbyes. 

Ilsa and Ethan shared a silent look that nevertheless spoke volumes, before moving across the street towards her bike. 

She donned her helmet and swung her leg over the saddle, waiting for Ethan to settle behind her, before starting the engine. A moment later, with his strong arms securely wrapped around her middle, she took off down the street. 

“Why did nobody mention to me that Ethan was head over heels in love with a gorgeous, kickass, motorcycle riding British agent?” Jane asked the others, as they made their way back towards the office to grab their stuff - which Ethan had obviously deemed not important enough to even consider, his priorities clearly lying elsewhere.

“Thought it would be more fun for you to witness firsthand,” Benji said, grinning, while Luther hummed in agreement.

“Thanks, appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Brandt just gave a long-suffering sigh. 

“Oh, cheer up. Wait till you get to know her, she’s great!” Benji admonished his unhappy friend. “I don’t know why you’re so grumpy about it!”

“Last time I met her, she didn’t make it very easy for me to trust her, is all.”

Benji rolled his eyes. “She’s a spy, Brandt, what do you expect? And so are we, by the way, so don’t be a douche about it.”

“A douche?” Brandt repeated, smirking.

“Yes, a douche.” Benji nodded, and gave him a look, as they crossed the threshold into their headquarters. “You’re being one right now, just sayin’.”

They continued to bicker all the way back to their respective offices, where they hurried to gather their things and call it a day. 

They were certainly looking forward to spending an evening out with friends - old ones, as well as new ones.

~fin


End file.
